


Making It Stick

by softintelligence



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Other, Prince Detective Shirogane Naoto Strikes Again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:51:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softintelligence/pseuds/softintelligence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kanji agonized for ten days over the note he planned to leave in Naoto’s locker. He kept starting over; the placement of the bunny stickers wasn’t good enough--he needed detective hats for the bunnies--he saw Sherlock Holmes stickers at the store and changed his mind about the whole layout--he found out Naoto didn’t actually <i>like</i> Sherlock Holmes, but much preferred Kousuke Kindaichi, so then he had to find Kousuke Kindaichi stickers, and <i>that</i> was a pain, and then...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making It Stick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cureelliott](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cureelliott/gifts).



Kanji agonized for ten days over the note he planned to leave in Naoto’s locker. He kept starting over; the placement of the bunny stickers wasn’t good enough--he needed detective hats for the bunnies--he saw Sherlock Holmes stickers at the store and changed his mind about the whole layout--he found out Naoto didn’t actually _like_ Sherlock Holmes, but much preferred Kousuke Kindaichi, so then he had to find Kousuke Kindaichi stickers, and _that_ was a pain, and then...

Kanji had never had so many problems designing and making things for someone before. The details had never seemed so important...

Then, Kanji had to learn the characters of Naoto’s name. He had his mom write for him with a calligraphic brush, over and over again, until he could learn the stroke order. “It has to look perfect, Ma,” Kanji said. 

“Naoto seems like a very nice person,” his mother said. “I hope Naoto accepts.”

Kanji’s face turned red and he scribbled Naoto’s name onto the envelope. Accept. This shit … was so stupid. Why was it necessary to go through these hoops just to get a response? But if he was being honest with himself, then--it would be because he was afraid of facing Naoto head-on. 

But he just wanted to get it over with. Once he told Naoto his feelings, then they both would get back to normal.

After a long night of scribbling his feelings onto a small piece of paper stuffed in a pastel blue envelope covered in little detective hats, Kanji came early to school and dropped off the letter int Naoto’s foot locker, hoping no one saw him walk up and down the aisles looking for Naoto’s locker.

Two weeks later, Naoto hadn’t mentioned anything about it at all. Naoto didn’t even act differently. Kanji thought maybe Naoto was trying to play it cool, like nothing between them had changed, and Kanji wanted to do the same, but he kept staying up late, wondering--were there too many bunnies? Was it too stand-offish?

Finally, Kanji called Seta. 

“Sempai,” Kanji said. “I need to talk to you about something. Important.”

Seta met him in front of Kanij’s house, where Kanji was waiting, knitting a miniature bird. He planned for it to have a small blue blazer and a round hat. 

Seta sat down next to Kanji and smiled. “I brought you a bento,” Seta said.

“Th-thanks, Sempai.” Kanji grunted. “It’s about Naoto. I-I left Naoto … a letter. B-but … I haven’t received any kind of reaction.”

“Hmm,” Seta said. “One time, Shirogane received a letter, but refused to read it, since it wasn’t a commission for a new case. Shirogane probably didn’t read yours, either.”

Kanji felt his face fall. So... that was it. 

“Maybe if you write a letter that appeals to a detective,” Seta said.

“I’ll think about it,” Kanji said, but the gears were already turning in his head. 

*

The letter Kanji wrote was simple and straightforward. The mystery? Even simpler. He asked his mother to write it for him--he was sure that Naoto knew what his handwriting looked like … 

_I have a problem concerning the mysterious disappearance of a very precious item to me. The item was stolen after it appeared on the “Midnight Channel.” I would like the item back. Please meet me at the local beef bowl restaurant to discuss the matter. I will be waiting for you this Thursday at 5pm._

“A moonlight romance, huh?” his mother asked.

“It’s not like that!” Kanji snatched the paper away and tucked it into his jacket. 

Kanji didn’t expect Naoto to appear, but on Thursday, Kanji hovered outside the window and saw Naoto’s familiar blue hat.

Kanji took a deep breath and entered the restaurant.

Kanji coughed and did his best impression of a surprised voice. “Naoto?”

Naoto looked up from the menu. “Kanji-kun! What are you doing here?”

“I--had a craving for beef.” Kanji sat down across from Naoto. Naoto had definitely, definitely not read the letter Kanji had sent. Otherwise, how could Naoto look him straight in the eye and smile? “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, about that.” Naoto’s smile widened. “I received a commission in my locker. Someone saw something on the Midnight Channel. I thought that meeting with them would be beneficial to learning more about the mysterious TV world. They said an object appeared this time... the first time something like this has happened. What do you think?”

Kanji laughed nervously. When Naoto said it like that, it sounded so embarrassing... “You know, Naoto --I’m not very good at that stuff, not like you are, you know …” 

“Eh?” Naoto’s eyes widened. “Well, thank you, Kanji. I’m glad that my hard work has paid off.”

“N-no problem.” He scratched the back of his neck. “S-so... When is this person coming?”

“Hmm. They said they would meet me at five, but …” Naoto sighed. “I had a feeling it would come to this. Since the rumors about the ‘true’ identity of Shirogane Naoto have spread, I’ve been taken less seriously …” Naoto’s head fell. “Maybe this was a joke investigation.”

Shit. 

_Shit._

This was not how Kanji had wanted this to go. He had wanted to regale Naoto with his feelings, and to show Naoto that he was serious, that he wanted to try-- _something_ \--

“I’m sure they’ll show up!” Kanji said, pumping his fist. “You know, they probably had an emergency...” 

Naoto nodded. “You’re right. If they’re somehow involved with the Midnight Channel … then … they may have gone missing... But at the same time, no one has been shown on TV lately.”

Kanji grunted. “Y-yeah...”

“I guess … I’ll have dinner here.” Naoto stared at the menu some more. “Do... you want to stay, Kanji-kun?”

“S-sure,” Kanji said. His neck felt flush. Fuck. “Y-you don’t … have to go home, soon, right?”

“No,” Naoto said. “My grandfather doesn’t really care when I come home.” 

“Oh,” Kanji said. “W-well. You know. Y-you can come over. A-and eat with my mom and me.” 

A flush spread up Naoto’s neck. Kanji stared in fascination and tried to etch the memory of Naoto’s face in his mind forever. “Th-that’s a very generous offer, Kanji-kun.” 

“W-well! I mean! If you--!” Kanji was full-on shouting in the store. People were turning their heads to look, but he couldn’t stop himself. “--want to! I just--! Thought! You know, it w-would be nice!!”

“T-Kanji-kun, you can calm down.” Naoto smiled nervously. “I understand. The offer is very nice. Thank you.” Naoto reached across the table.

Suddenly, Naoto’s hand was touching Kanji’s, and Kanji felt his face heat up to the temperature of the sun.

“Hey,” Kanji mumbled. “Look, uh--” Here was his chance. Naoto was opening up to him. Naoto was touching his hand. Kanji could confess, here and now, and just forget about the letter. The letter he had spent nearly two weeks on. The letter Naoto had discarded in favor of mysteries.

Which meant …

Maybe …

Naoto wasn’t interested. Not--Kanji specifically, but. In general. The whole thing.

“Naoto,” Kanji said. “I. Wanted to ask you something.” 

Naoto’s head titled. “Yes?”

“Look,” Kanji said. “Uh...” He picked up the menu and looked at the cover. A beautiful picture of a beef bowl stared back at him. He placed the menu back down on the table. “I …”

“Kanji-kun?” 

Kanji’s jaw slackened and he banged a fist on the table. He had faced his Shadow, after all, but in the end, he couldn’t even ask a simple question. What was the worst that Naoto could say? “No”?

“Is there something troubling you, Kanji-kun?” 

“No, I just, uh.” Kanji’s face felt so hot. “Senpai--told me th-that! You receive … letters.”

“Oh, those.” Naoto chuckled so good-naturedly that Kanji felt his resolve withering away by the second. “I usually don’t read them. Why bother? They aren’t calls for--”

“Naoto!” Kanji yelled. “I--I--I really admire you!” He thumped his fist on the table. “You--you work hard! And y-you’re … you were able to face yourself!” 

Naoto’s face started to turn a dark shade of red. “Ka-kanji-kun, where is this--!”

“Y-you know, th-that letter. Th-that you got.” Kanji took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose. “Th-the one with the detective stickers.”

A look of realization swept across Naoto’s features. “Ka-Kanji-kun...” 

Kanji hung his head, his fist still on the table. “A-anyway, I wrote that stupid letter ‘bout the mystery, so you would meet me. Sorry.”

“Oh.” 

“It’s okay if, y’know, you don’t want to. Talk about it. I just thought. I wanted to be honest with you.”

Naoto stood up. “Um. I. I. I have to. Um. Investigate.” And with that, Naoto ran out the door, faster than anyone Kanji had ever seen run away from him before.

All things considered, Kanji thought it hadn’t gone bad at all. He had expected Naoto to slap him, or disown him as a friend, or. Or.

When the waitress finally came by, Kanji ordered a regular beef bowl. He found it too salty, too watery, but his vision was blurry, too blurry to look for someone to complain to, and he was only grateful when the waitress came by with a box of napkins. 

*

The most agonizing thing about Naoto avoiding him, Kanji decided, was that all Naoto really did differently was not look at Kanji. Naoto still talked to Kanji like a friend, but he could never meet Naoto’s eye.

Kanji felt invisible--even more invisible than when everyone thought he was just some delinquent. Part of him wished he’d never told Naoto, but the other part of him, the part he’d discovered after meeting Souji, said, _You have to face the truth,_ so he resolved to accept it, no matter how Naoto reacted.

*

One agonizing week later, Kanji found a note in his shoebox that was neatly pressed and folded. His name was typed on the back of the envelope. His hands shook while he opened the letter, his shoulders hunched as he slipped the thick piece of paper out.

_Tatsumi Kanji-kun,_

_Thank you for bringing your feelings to my awareness. I have read your letter and would like to meet with you after school today. Please meet me by the bike racks._

_Shirogane Naoto_

Naoto still wanted to meet him. Kanji let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he’d been holding and stuck the letter into his bag. He wanted to adorn it with bunny and detective stickers. 

Kanji rushed to the bike racks after school. He wasn’t sure what bike rack to wait by. Did Naoto even use a bike to get to school? Why the bike racks?

“Kanji-kun,” Naoto said. Kanji turned around and waved, then dropped his hand when he realized what he was doing. Maybe Naoto wasn’t here to talk to him about any feelings, but here to talk to Kanji about … not being friends. Or saying, that maybe he was weird, this was weird--

“Kanji-kun,” Naoto said, again. “I came here to talk to you about the letter that you gave to me.” Naoto took a deep breath, and Kanji had the impression that Naoto’s words were rehearsed. “I wanted to tell you that I appreciate you t-telling me your … f-feelings, and …”

Kanji wanted for Naoto to continue, but when Naoto fell silent, Kanji said, “Naoto?” and Naoto looked up, eyes wide.

“Kanji-kun, I--I need … clarification, I suppose. On your feelings. Before I can truly come to a conclusion... There aren’t enough clues.”

Kanji cleared his throat and stamped his foot on the ground a little, as though to put out a cigarette. Not that he ever smoked, but-- “Naoto, I...” He coughed into his shoulder. “I admire you for. You know. Being born. The way that you are, and--accepting yourself, and--you know, becoming a--” Kanji searched around in his vocabulary. _Bokukko? Man? Girl?_ None of those felt right. “--detective.”

Naoto’s eyes went even wider. “I-is that how you see it? Not...”

“W-well,” Kanji said, rubbing the back of his neck. He stared at the bikes and was glad for how shiny they were, how he could excuse them if Naoto asked. “I. Y’know. Even for me. I haven’t been able to fully … accept myself. For who I am. So, I really--y’know--you--” He felt his face getting hotter and hotter, his clothes suddenly itchy. Kanji wished he could summon Take-Mikazuchi and have him strike him down to the ground. “Na-naoto, I just--like you! That’s all!”

Kanji wanted to fall to his knees, but in front of the bike racks at school, maybe that was a little much. But his knees were weak, and if Naoto didn’t speak soon, Kanji felt like he was going to faint, and that would be embarrassing if his mom had to come pick him up from the hospital.

“Ka-Kanji-kun,” Naoto said. “I. I mean. I. I admire you. Too.” 

Kanji stared at Naoto’s red face. “R-really?”

Naoto nodded. “Even though... people talk about you... you still do the things you love.” 

“You do, too,” Kanji said. “You’re a freakin’ Prince Detective!” 

Naoto laughed, voice breaking on a high note, and finally, Naoto smiled. “Kanji-kun...” The blush darkened over Naoto’s face. “Perhaps … we could investigate a relationship. Together.”

Kanji wanted to die. Stupid Naoto. “Oi, oi, oi. There’s no need to be so formal.” He walked over and put a hand on Naoto’s head. “We’re friends. This... this isn’t a detective novel.”

Naoto nodded, slowly, and touched Kanji’s hand. “I know, but it’s like you said in your letter. We can be partners, right?” 

Kanji could have punched Naoto for that--except, Naoto’s cheerful smile, radiating from such a cute face, was killing him inside, so he said, “Yeah, we can be,” and that night, he didn’t regret buying all those detective stickers at all.


End file.
